The other night I was delighted to see that ITV2 were showing The Witches Of Eastwick as their late night film. I love this movie. The first time I watched it I was probably about sixteen, and as a big fan of Cher in her capacity as an actress (ever since I was introduced to the film Mermaids as a youngster) I remember thinking it was dark, funny and just a little bit wicked.
My first TV was an old black and white portable and I was allowed to have this in my bedroom. My parents were quite strict though with regards to what I watched on TV, so the rule was that I wasn’t allowed to watch anything in my room, past the 9pm watershed. Naturally I ignored this rule completely as soon as I got my first TV set, and would sit watching late night films, perched on the end of my bed. I should state that I had to perch on the end of my bed, with the volume on at practically NOTHING, because the ancient TV set didn’t have a remote control, and my parent’s had the very annoying habit of coming to “check on me” before they retired for the evening. I therefore had to be at the ready to switch it off and jump back into bed and offer an Oscar winning “sleepy performance” with some fake snoring noises, should I hear their footsteps on the stairs.
I mean seriously – why do parents have to check on you like that? Where exactly do they think you’ll be when they go to bed? This isn’t the States! We don’t live in one story houses where climbing out of windows is a relatively easy affair! I lived in an urban area, and there were no giant trees outside my window that I could have used to climb in and out of my bedroom...besides...I was a good girl and to be fair have always loved my bed, so the chances of me getting out of it for any reason other than for food, were relatively slim.
Given that I’m currently back at mums house, when I saw the TV listings, I was filled with nostalgia, and decided to settle in for the night for my Jack Nicholson fix. Whilst watching it (now as an adult) a certain line in the film struck a chord with me. The three main characters (played by Cher, Susan Sarandon and Michelle Phieffer) are talking about what they want in a man...good looks, a kind heart, money, a big...e-hem (!)... After much deliberation they decide wishing for the perfect man is futile, and Cher’s character concludes that she doesn’t need a man to make her happy, at which point Susan’s character points out:
“Well why do we always end up talking about them?”
I couldn’t help but giggle to myself. My group of friends are a mixture of serial singletons, long term relationship-ee’s, and married women. All of them are strong and sometimes feisty women, good jobs, great social lives, outside interests and hobbies. All of them caring and compassionate women, who’s friends mean the world to them...and yet nine times out of ten, after half a bottle of White Zinfandel, the topic of conversation will have turned to men.
BLOODY MEN! And I’m one of the worst culprits. Do I feel like I need to be in a relationship? Nope. Do I rely on a man to do things for me or look after me? Nope. None of my friends do...and yet we always end up talking about them. My married friends complain about the lack of help they get in the home, or gush about the romantic things their husbands do for them, my friends in a relationship talk about whether they should be taking their relationship to the next level, or tell you excitedly about the surprise treat their boyfriend had for them when they got home yesterday. My single friends wonder when their Mr Right is going to walk through the door, or just entertain me with tales of their dating disasters, but despite this constant dialogue centred around the male of the species, we all maintain that we Do NOT Need A Man!
Clearly we all do, else they wouldn’t be our fall back conversation...surely??
I’ve recently stopped seeing CB, and have found myself back on the singles market (another one bites the dust). I know that when the time is right I shall revert back to my single mentality and continue the search for my Prince Charming, despite the fact that I’ve actually got far bigger and more important life ambitions to focus on at the moment. I’m not sure whether it’s coded into our genetic make-up that we should constantly be aware of the opposite sex, and always looking for the man that’s going to give us beautiful babies, and provide us with a safe environment within which to thrive. All I know is, that a group of women will always end up discussing what they don’t have, what they do have, and what they truly want, and it will always somehow come back to relationships. I guess it’s like they say – we’re all looking for true love, whether we realise it or not.
